Silicon Homecoming
by Locutus2262
Summary: Something that had started 800 years before the Axiom's launch is bound to have a huge impact on its homecoming 700 years later. The characters we hold so dear must avert disaster for the colony once more. Story for Hallowen 2009, work-in-progress.
1. Prologue: New Star

**_Introduction_**

Noone would have believed that a thing that started out so small would later have the biggest influence on how events progressed.

Something that had begun 800 years before the Axiom's launch turned out to have a more than significant influence on the events surrounding its homecoming 700 years later.

Strange anomalies during its septuacentennial cruise, some of them obvious, some unnoticed. Even stranger phenomena after its return, both of which costing the lives of more than one robot.

Grave danger arising from the abandoned ship, threatening the newly founded colony in its entirety.

It will fall to persons and robots we have come to hold dear to once more avert disaster for what is left of mankind.

_This story was written with the intention to publish it in its entirety for Halloween 2009. It turned out though to become way larger than initially planned, so it is work-in-progress for now. :)_

Many thanks to co-author **Unreal.2K7** for brainstorming, proofreading and contributing some chapters!

**_Prologue_**

Out in space, it is cold, dark and cold.

Considering the inconceivably vast and empty expanses in the interstellar medium, it is also - beyond any doubt - the loneliest place imaginable.

Those beings of course who are lucky enough to dwell in the proximity of a star can be considered blessed by fate. They are not doomed to an existence in that black nothingness, but have a place that bestows upon them light and warmth, a place that they can call their home.

Every once in a while though, that friendly, life-giving home can turn against those that it had born. When a huge and massive star has spent all of the fuel that powers the natural fusion reactor in its core, the energy production comes to an - astronomically speaking - sudden halt. The delicate balance between gravity and radiation pressure is disturbed, and the star ends its life in an unimaginable explosion of light and stellar matter, known as a _Supernova_. For a few last glorious days, its remains shine brighter than a whole galaxy, and the gas that is hurled out into space sweeps everything along that dares to try and thwart the expanding bubble.

Whenever people on our planet Earth witnessed the appearance of what they called a _new star_ in the sky, bright enough to be visible even during daylight, they credited it with being either a good or bad omen, sometimes both of it at once. Little did the people back in the days of Ancient Greece suspect, when they spotted that bright glimmering speck in the sky, that they were witnessing the terminal scream of a distant star, about 800 light years away. A scream that, unbeknownst to them, was to have way more influence on their descendants than any omen might have predicted.


	2. Travel

Rushing through outer space at one third of the speed of light is very dangerous, for more than one reason. Care must be taken when deciding which path to travel on, as to not trace it through a star's core or right into a solid, rocky planet. In our case though, the course was laid out by the superheated gas cloud emitted from the hull of an exploding star. And those are not exactly known for their navigational precision...

_A few hundreds years later._

Due to a considerable amount of luck, our path leads close by a blue giant star, about 700 light years away from our sun and about a hundred thousand times brighter. Thanks to its gravitational field, the trajectory of our journey is slightly altered. This little deviation though changes things dramatically, since when dealing with astronomical speeds and distances, a few arcseconds of course correction mean that the travel ends in a different quadrant of the galaxy...

_A millennium later._

Our course leads us into the blue clouds of the Pleiades nebula. Striking through the dust and avoiding the Seven Sisters and any other celestial body in the cluster, we look around. Blue is the only visible thing. Blue from everywhere, from the stars, from the debris reflecting their light. For more than a century blue is the only thing around. It can seem like an eternity, or like a second. When breaking free from the cloud, a spectacular vortex of gas forms behind us, obscuring a part of the black, white-speckled background before the void of space engulfs us once more...

_Some centuries later._

Continuing our travel, the universe gives us another demonstration of its wild beauty. While passing through a giant molecular cloud, a small bright spot can be recognized in its center, where the beginning gravitational collapse of matter onto itself will lead, in a few million years, to the birth of a new star. Will it become a superhot giant, violently burning its fuel and lasting for _just_ a few million years? Or will it rather be a red dwarf, much less powerful, yet lasting longer than the age of the universe? The answer to this is to remain unknown, as the travel is leading us somewhere else...

_Some years later._

The seemingly eternal darkness is cast away for many years as we pass through an extended H II region. There is so much light here, more than any star could ever give off on its own. Light comes from everywhere, in every intensity, in every color. Being reflected back and forth, it grows in intensity and becomes focused so much that it almost seems like a lighthouse for those ships that are lost in space...

_A few decades later._

There is nothing but debris around when the journey leads us through the atmosphere of Jupiter, the largest of the gas giants in the Earth's solar system. With the gases of the planet becoming denser while piercing through its lower atmosphere, our traveling speed is reduced to a more human-acceptable value. Some seconds later we emerge from the planet on its other side, headed toward the Sun.

_Some minutes later._

We pass by the Sun close to its chromosphere, speed past it and continue onward. Now, traveling at only few kilometers per second, our journey is coming to an end as we meet a large object hovering in space. A large, solid object.


	3. Anomaly

_August 25th, 2106 A.D._

The huge starliner was floating majestically through the black endless void. When observed from a distance, it appeared like a little glittering gem, giving off tinted sparkles of light. Its hull reflected the colorful rays emitted by nearby gaseous clouds, interspersed with its internal illumination that escaped into the vast emptiness of space.

The _Axiom_, the largest and most extravagant of all of BnL's spaceships, constituted the home away from home for almost half a million people. Although hoping to be returning to a freshly cleaned up actual home, most of them were in agreement that the invitation to _spend the five-year cruise in style_ was being more than adequately fulfilled.

The mostly automated robot crew of the Axiom guided the ship on its preset course along the outer rim of the solar system, seeing to it that the human passengers could enjoy their luxurious trip without worry or sorrow.

Among that crew was Mandy, a maintenance robot who had just been woken up from her hibernation state by an incoming alert message.

_"Warning. Gravitational anomaly detected."_ Mandy sighed. As a member of the _Maintenance Enforcement Detail, Extravehicular class_, or MEND-E for short, it was her directive to help keep the exterior hull of the ship in top shape.

The robot activated her hoverdrive and floated out of the storage alcove. What the computer had announced so dramatically as a "gravitational anomaly" was for sure just another load of space debris. It happened all the time that some cube of garbage was not hurled out far enough by the Airlock Disposal and was subsequently captured by the ship's gravity, getting stuck to its hull. Nothing serious, but still Mandy had to take care of it. After all, it was her directive.

Her internal display showed her the exact location of the alleged trash accumulation, and so she hovered through the Axiom's seemingly endless corridors towards the starboard main loading bay. The airlocks in that region would give her the best access to the hull section where she needed to go.

As Mandy entered the bay, she noticed that an ARV was docked there. The ARVs were fast unmanned delivery vessels, and the particular one Mandy was watching was just about to unload a row of inactive white egg-shaped robots. Mandy counted ten of them who were, after a thorough cleanup by a M-O model, being propped on a transport cart to be taken to their storage area. She did not know the exact purpose of their model, but she did know that they possessed a highly advanced gravitic drive.

With a distinct feeling of jealousy Mandy watched as the cart wheeled off. She could have used such a gravitic drive very well herself. Her hoverdrive made moving around inside the ship quite comfortable, but it worked only on solid ground. For movement through space or over the ship's exterior hull, she had to make use of a rocket drive and small maneuvering thrusters, which was not exactly convenient.

On her way to the service airlock, Mandy passed by the M-O unit who had just finished his cleaning work.

The little robot bleeped to her. _'Foreign contaminant?'_ she received his internal communication message.

_'Yeah, another load of trash stuck to the outer hull.'_

_"Whoa, whoa, whoa,"_ the robot exclaimed and presented his cleaning brush.

Mandy smiled inside of her. _'It's okay. Thanks for the offer, but remember, you can't even move around properly outside.'_

The M-O obviously remembered, and with another bleeping noise he wheeled off. As Mandy entered the airlock and prepared her rocket drive for her extravehicular operation, she felt a little relief that she herself was nowhere near as obsessed with cleaning things as those M-O units were.

* * *

  
Little flames were shooting out of the backpack that housed Mandy's rocket drive, attached to the backside of her chassis. Propelled by the blowback, the maintenance robot directed her course away from the airlock which closed automatically behind her. She flew forward about a hundred meters, then turned around and looked at the shimmering metallic hull of the spacecraft. Above the artificial horizon that the huge vessel formed, there was blackness, speckled with myriads of little white dots and the occasional colorful gaseous nebula. Mandy liked the view, and being able to enjoy it more than made up for the hassle that went along with those extravehicular tasks.

_'MEND-E unit 6-4-3 reporting. On course to investigate gravitational anomaly, requesting approach vector',_ she communicated to the ship's computer.

The response came promptly. _Confirmed. Vector has been transferred to locator system._

Mandy checked her navigations and found the yellow flashing spot on the hull that marked the destination. It was situated about 500 meters from her position, so she corrected her attitude using thrusters, then she applied full power to the rocket drive.

On her way, she dashed past the large windows of an observation deck behind which Mandy spotted several of the human passengers, who obviously liked watching the stars just as much as she did. As they noticed the speeding maintenance robot, they stopped and waved to her. Although Mandy did not possess an expressive eye display like some of the other models, she still smiled inside of her and waved back with one of her utility arms.

As she approached her destination, she instructed the rocket drive to apply reverse thrust. Slowing down, she checked up on her locator map and matched its display with the actual hull conditions.

The target was in an engineering area of the ship, so there were no windows or other sources of light. Since space was devoid of air that could have scattered light from the ship's other windows, and the section where Mandy was going was not facing any noteworthy external light sources, it was like a sudden nightfall as soon as she had passed the last window.

Luckily, Mandy was equipped with a radar sight system for this kind of situation. When the designated area came into range, she started scanning the hull for the assembly of garbage that probably had triggered the anomaly alert. She emitted electromagnetic waves that were reflected by any object that they hit, and the echoes that Mandy registered were transformed into a visual representation of the hull's structure, complete with distance figures.

How odd, Mandy thought. At first glance, she could not detect any substantial accumulation of trash. It should have been visible by now, for to be registered as an anomaly, it had to be a considerable mass.

The robot came to a halt over the alleged destination. Still she could not see anything. _'MEND-E unit 6-4-3 requesting confirmation of target location,'_ she radioed to the computer, who promptly confirmed that she indeed was in the right spot.

After having repeated the radar scan, this time at twice the usual intensity, Mandy muttered to herself. It would not have been the first time that the actual problem was a malfunction of the ship's sensors and that she was sent out here for nothing. Just as she was about to perform a third scan, just for the sake of fulfilling her duty, she noticed something.

Her display showed a little speck of light down on the hull. Since her vision was configured to radar scanning, it meant that something down there was giving off electromagnetic waves in the radio wavelength band. How odd, Mandy thought once more. She was not aware of anything down there that might have been able to produce that kind of radiation. Curiously, she floated a little closer.

Then, all of a sudden, her display was filled, no, was overwhelmed by radar rays, turning their visual representation into a bright, blinding white light. Startled, she applied a filter to the receiver, but the radiation was so intense that the radar system was still being overloaded. Mandy turned it off, engulfing her in a sudden darkness, and decided to see if the faint light that the stars were sending down there was enough to further investigate this phenomenon.

The situation changed from something worth an investigation to grave danger so quickly that Mandy had no chance to react.

Her sensors indicated that the radiation was extending its frequency range. What had started out as harmless radio waves turned into microwaves, then over infrared and visible light into X-rays and gamma radiation.

Mandy was both perplexed and horrified. She had never witnessed anything like this, and before she could activate her rocket drive to maneuver out of the danger zone, it was already too late. The deadly mix of radiation spread over the whole frequency spectrum swept through her. Although her body possessed a moderate shielding against radiation, the intensity that hit her right now was nothing she could cope with. Arcs of induced high-voltage electricity danced over her circuit boards. Metallic conductors started glowing white-hot, plastic casings of IC chips melted.

Within just a few seconds, all of her electronic parts were destroyed. Mandy did not notice anymore as her rocket drive ignited and gave her seemingly unscathed yet lifeless body an impetus that sent it away from the Axiom, to float off into the vast emptiness of space.

* * *

  
A little gathering of electromagnetic waves, originating from some spot above the Axiom's hull and expanding in a circular pattern, traveled a short distance through space and was - after just a few microseconds - picked up by an array of scanner antennas. From there, it continued its way as electrical impulses that ended up in the vast assembly of circuits and neuronal network interconnectors that made up the ship's computer.

The pattern of the waves was analyzed and identified as a fragment of a robotic communication protocol. Decoding circuits started translating the incomprehensible mix of frequencies into a clear text message, which was subsequently forwarded to a section of the circuitry that housed its analysis algorithms. There it triggered multiple neuronal layers that began firing impulses, causing the computer to undergo a shift towards a concerned state, if one wanted to use that term when talking about an entity that was merely a non-sentient interface between the ship's systems and its human and robotic crew.

In mere milliseconds, the computer calculated whether the message fragment was important enough to inform the Captain about it, taking into account all available information. It came to the conclusion that the Captain indeed needed to be made aware of the situation.

While the computer activated its communication systems, the impulses that had initiated its concern reached another part of its neural network, where, hidden and unnoticed, something peculiar was forming. Something that had not been there just a few hours ago.

* * *

  
"Oh, hello Captain, doing something for your fitness too?"

Captain Reardon, who was sitting on a bench besides the Axiom's jogging track, looked up from his shoes which he was about to tie. The track was located in a large open area adjacent to the Lido Deck, an identical artificial sky spanning above it. Reardon would have been, as usual, a little annoyed that he was recognized even out of his uniform, were it not for the fact that the person in question was a remarkably handsome young woman.

So he smiled instead as he replied, "Yeah, I'm trying to stay in shape." On a mostly automated ship, there was not really much to do for a Captain, he mused. "Hope you're enjoying your cruise?"

"Hell yeah!" the woman replied. "Especially since this is my second trip on a luxury cruiser that's paid by my employer. Seems BnL quite liked the robots I designed lately. Oh, I'm Jennifer Ivy by the way."

"I've heard about you, you're the one who designed the AUTO model, right?"

"Guilty as charged. I hope it's working out okay for you?"

"For the most part, yeah. The autopilot is definitely a good aid, although he can be annoying at times. He has a bad habit of interrupting me when I least expect it, and usually with utterly unimportant --"

A small device on the Captain's wristband gave off a pleasantly sounding chime. The Captain raised his arm, looked at it and then rolled his eyes. "I don't believe it. Guess who."

"AUTO calling?" Jennifer chuckled.

"Yeah, but I am _so_ not gonna answer it," the Captain mumbled as he pressed a button on his device. "My shift for today is over, and I plan to enjoy the jogging and a nice Captain's Dinner later on."

"I suppose you deserve that. It's nice to see that the good old tradition of Captain's Dinner is still being kept up."

Before Reardon could answer, a gigantic viewscreen on the wall lit up and showed an oversized image of a spoked ship's wheel, colored in black and white.

**"Captain, you are needed on the bridge."** came the autopilot's monotonous voice over the jogging track's PA system.

Reardon was stunned. "Did I mention that I don't believe it?" he muttered after some long seconds. Then he looked up and barked towards the viewscreen, "_Yes_, AUTO, what is it?"

**"Captain, we are having a problem with a maintenance unit."**

"What the... AUTO, do I look like an NG-NR robot to you or something? Just call the Repair Ward!"

**"Captain, I insist. The computer reported an anomalous phenomenon."**

Reardon sighed deeply.

"No jogging for you today, hm?" Jennifer said, half in amusement and half in sympathy.

"I suppose not. Okay AUTO, I'll be right there. And it better be important, otherwise we're going to find out how much spoke-bending Mrs. Ivy's chassis design allows for."

* * *

  
The spoked wheel was nervously whizzing around the Axiom's bridge when the sliding doors of the elevator opened and the Captain stepped out. At once the autopilot zipped up through a hole in the ceiling, only to come down again through another hole that was situated right in front of Reardon.

**"Welcome back to the bridge, Captain. My apologies for interrupting your free time."**

"It's okay, AUTO, after all I _am_ the Captain. If there's anything wrong with the ship, I should know about it. So, what's the matter?"

As he started explaining, the autopilot's voice appeared to have taken on a slightly uneasy tone, if that was even possible with his monotonous modulation. Apparently the computer had lost telemetry from a maintenance robot doing routine work on the outer hull, just after receiving a message fragment of which only a few words could be deciphered.

"Well yeah, that does sound somewhat unusual indeed. There's surely some reasonable explanation though. Let's check it out. Computer!"

_"Please state your request,"_ came the reply, modulated in a rather unemotional yet pleasant female voice.

"Convey report about that maintenance robot."

_"Please clarify: which maintenance robot are you referring to?"_

Reardon looked a little surprised. "Well, the one you lost about fifteen minutes ago?"

_"Unable to compute. There has not been any loss of robot personnel in the last twenty-eight days."_

"AUTO...?" Reardon turned around and threw a half-angry, half-confused glance at the autopilot.

**"Not possible."**

"Computer, AUTO here called me off my jogging to report about a loss of telemetry from a maintenance robot, what was with that?"

_"Confirmed. There has been a temporary dropout of communication with a MEND-E unit outside the Axiom. That dropout lasted for three point eight seconds, after which telemetry has been re-acquired."_

"And why hasn't AUTO been informed about this _before_ he went all Red Alert on me?"

_"He did not ask about it."_

Reardon grinned, then chuckled and shook his head. "AUTO, Computer, you two really need to work on your communication. If you're not getting along, maybe I'll have one of those EVE units sent up here. Seeing how cute they are, that should get some nice jealousy going."

**"Captain, I would rather prefer to not discuss my personal --"**

The Captain laughed again and interrupted the autopilot. "Yeah yeah, just kidding. Computer, is the MEND-E in good health then?"

_"It has returned to its storage area three point four minutes ago."_

"Well then, another crisis solved. If that's all for now, I'll be back down on the jogging track."

* * *

  
_"Whoa, whoa!"_ the little M-O robot uttered as a message flashed onto his internal viewscreen. It ordered him to a cleaning job in the MEND-E storage compartment, where a unit obviously had just returned from an extravehicular mission.

He wheeled off and reached the storage area a few minutes later. As he approached the designated alcove, he found it empty.

_"Whoa?"_ he wondered and double-checked the alcove ID he had received together with the assignment message. Strange; the ID was correct. Still, the alcove was definitely empty. As the M-O wheeled off again, he pondered, slightly disgruntled, that it was probably just another data discrepancy. Someone really should have this computer checked out.

At the same time, deep down in the inscrutable maze of neural pathways that made up the computer's core systems, new connections were being formed while existing ones were altered, shifted, re-programmed. Simple structures combined to complex ones, which in turn began taking shape, more and more, until they were complex enough to execute basic operations.

The first operation resulted in the deletion of an entry in the ship's robot crew manifest. MEND-E unit number 6-4-3 had, now officially, ceased to exist.


	4. Messages

_BnL Head Office, Shelbington D.C. February 2nd, 2108 A.D._

The day was developing the potential to become a really good one, Ralf Peterson thought after he had hung up the phone and returned to his paperwork. As chairman of _Operation Homestead_, it was his responsibility that mankind's efforts to cultivate foreign planets were fruitful, literally.

For as of yet unknown reasons, food plant efficiency on the Earth had seriously diminished, so a rather desperate plan had been executed to grow food on other planets. Peterson had just received a message that another very promising planet had been discovered. It turned out that it had been a good idea after all to use the BnL space cruisers as bases of operation for that search for suitable planets.

* * *

  
_The Axiom, a few hours earlier_

The transport cart, equipped with a convenient hoverdrive, was sailing smoothly through the Axiom's endless corridors, automatically controlled by its pathfinder program and following the electronic tracks embedded into the floor. Its destination was the tall sleek tower in the middle of the Lido Deck, and its freight consisted of a white egg-shaped robot, strapped onto the loading space, inactive except for a pulsing green icon on its front side.

With the sureness of a sleep-walker the cart made its way both through lonely parts of the ship and also through passageways with considerable robot traffic. Finally it emerged onto the huge open Lido Deck and proceeded towards the elevator on the bottom of the central tower.

On the bridge, Captain Reardon looked up from a display screen. "Uhm, computer, can you explain this report?" he asked in a slightly confused tone.

_"Confirmed. The repair ward declared that its capacity has been exceeded after the last _passengers vs. crew_ soccer match, which claimed numerous casualties among the robot personnel. A capacity expansion has been requested."_

Reardon chuckled. "Well then, anything that helps to keep our passengers in good humor. Instruct a detail of NG-NR robots to set up an auxiliary repair ward."

_"Confirmed. Dispatching units now."_

While the Captain was still conferring with the computer, the elevator doors opened behind his back and the transport cart came hovering in. The autopilot darted over to it and inspected its freight, freezing in place for a second at the sight of the green icon.

**"Captain?"**

"One moment, AUTO, I'm just going through the list of damaged robots. Good lords, how can they assign PR-Ts to play soccer? We badly need that RN-LDO model they're designing back on Earth."

**"Captain?"**

Reardon turned around. "Yes, AUTO, what is it?"

**"Captain, Probe Three has returned positive."**

* * *

  
A moment of silence fell upon the Axion's bridge, before AUTO typed the reactivation command into the EVE model's chest buttons. The transport restraints retracted as the robot came to life, and a few seconds later she was hovering opposite to the Captain.

The probe saluted quickly with her right fin while the other one, bearing a beautifully painted yellow insignia, was floating at her side.

"Oh, hello Aira, back already from your mission? Found another plant?" the Captain said with a content smile. He had given all the EVE probes that were stationed on the Axiom individual names and had markers painted on their shells, as to be able to distinguish the otherwise completely identical robots.

_"Found plant,"_ Aira confirmed in her pleasantly warbling voice, nodded and pointed a fin towards the pulsing icon.

"That's great, our people back at the Agricultural Survey will be happy! Lemme see. On which planet did you find it?"

_"Fomalhaut D. Lots of vegetation,"_ the robot said while she opened her stasis chamber and produced a small, exotic looking, bluish-green plant.

The Captain took it into his hands and marveled at its beauty. "It's really fascinating, every time. Wait here, Aira, I'm gonna send out the notification right away. It's also time soon for the BnL fleet status reports. Always interesting to read what our people out there are doing." Then he added, before turning towards the bridge's consoles, "Oh, uhm, care for a stroll through the Arboretum afterwards, before it's back-to-storage for you?"

The white robot nodded with a happy smile in her eyes.

* * *

  
Communication is a vital part of every operation that involves the participation of multiple individuals, be it humans or robots. The fleet of cruise ships that was operating all across the solar system's neighborhood was no exception. Messages were constantly being sent out and received by the Axiom, mostly in form of hyperspace waves as to bridge the considerable gap between the ships and the Earth in a reasonable timespan.

Aside from the computer circuitry that was intended to perform message encoding and decoding tasks, another part of its neural network was, with great interest, analyzing the strange signals involved in hyperspace communication. Slowly, step by step, the complexity of its interconnections increased with every message it saw whiz past on its way in or out. Step by step, it was learning to understand them.

* * *

  
_ The Axiom. July 14th, 2108 A.D._

On an automated luxury cruise ship like the Axiom, life rarely deviated from a preset daily routine. Passengers who intended to spend their time on a relaxing flight usually did not like deviations. An exception were those of the kind that was about to be announced by Captain Reardon whose face appeared on each and every display screen on the ship.

"Respected passengers," his voice boomed out of the P.A. system, "may I have your attention. I'm pleased to announce we're preparing to go on a little sightseeing trip across the solar system. Our astrometrics unit has determined that the Sun is about to display a quite spectacular event, a coro-- coronary-- AUTO, what was this thing called again?"

**"Coronal mass ejection, Captain,"** the autopilot's voice interspersed with the Captain's.

"Yeah, what he said. The computer pointed out that it's going to be one hell of a show, so we're dearly invited to watch it. From a safe distance of course. An appropriate course has been laid in, so you might want to head for the nearest big display screen, if you'd like to witness. Please note that all window shieldings will be closed shortly, to protect you from the intense light involved. Thank you for your attention!"

The P.A. fell silent, and display screens all across the ship returned to their previous states. An excited muttering spread across the passengers who began lining up for the screens to get a good vista. Little did they know that their expectations were bound to be disappointed.

* * *

  
Vital for the success of every mission, especially when two or more parties operate with converse intentions, is to know about one's environment and where the best strategic places are situated. Such knowledge can be attained through exploration, through spying, or sometimes by simply listening in to publicly available exchange of information.

And more often than not, expanding one's knowledge about the surroundings and situation leads to opportunities spontaneously presenting themselves.

As the Axiom dashed through the solar system on a course past its central celestial body, getting a good view on an astronomical phenomenon was among those opportunities, yet it was not the only one.

* * *

  
_The Axiom, a few hours later._

Captain Reardon was watching the main viewscreen on the bridge in anticipation. Since the window shields were closed, the room was filled with a dim and ghostly light from its internal illumination. A bright yellow speck indicating the Sun occupied about one fifth of the screen.

"Uhm, AUTO, I don't really know what a coronal mass ejection looks like, but aren't we supposed to see at least some precursors of it by now?"

**"I suppose so, Captain."**

Reardon nodded. "Computer, verify expected occurrence of CME."

_"Ejection is calculated to occur right when we pass by the Sun. Intensity of magnetic field gyration is increasing as expected. Optimal distance for observation is two million kilometers."_

"Well then, if you say so. Adjust the screen angle to follow our fly-by."

_"Confirmed."_

During the next few minutes, the screen showed the Sun in its center with the stars slowly rotating around it, caused by the cameras' panning to compensate for the ship's movement. For the same minutes, the Sun stayed the quiet yellow ball that it had been before. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Any time now--" Reardon wondered if the nuclear furnace required some prompt on his part to begin its act. Naturally that did not work, but then something else struck the Captain as slightly odd.

It was the pattern of the passing stars. In the center of the screen they were moving in rather straight lines. Closer to the edges though their paths became more and more rounded. Almost as if...

"AUTO, I'm not an expert on camera imagery, but isn't it strange that the star patterns around the Sun look like a huge bubble?"

The autopilot quickly looked at the display, then back at Reardon.

**"I concur, Captain."**

"Computer, verify main screen display image for geometrical anomalies."

_"Verification complete. No anomalies detected."_

"Really." Reardon remained skeptical. He could not really put his finger on it, but something was definitely wrong with what he was seeing. Then an idea came to him.

"Computer, open the starboard window shieldings."

_"Warning. That procedure is not advisable. CMEs can produce a considerable amount of light, resulting in possible damage to the human..."_

"Computer. Open the shielding. Now."

_"Confirmed."_

With a whirring noise, the shades on the bridge's windows retracted, revealing a sight that was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. A huge, glaring yellow ball was staring down at the ship, filling almost half of the windows. The bridge was instantly bathed in intense light, forcing the Captain to hold his hand before the eyes.

"Holy... Close the shades! Now!" The Captain was furious. "AUTO, what about that safe distance course? Aren't we a little close to that thing?"

The autopilot immediately started whizzing around the bridge, operating various control consoles. The ship's engines fired, changing its course away from the blazing sphere of burning gas.

"AUTO, I asked you something."

**"Aye aye, Captain. Our distance from the Sun is within safety limits, although with an expected CME it is not advisable to remain here."**

"And why did you maneuver us here in the first place? Are you the autopilot or what?"

**"I precisely followed the course data calculated by the computer."**

"Yeah, which makes me wonder indeed." The Captain looked quizzically at the computer console. "Why did our viewscreens show a demagnified version of the Sun? Someone stuck a fisheye lens onto your cameras, computer?"

_"Unable to process. The viewscreens are configured to one-by-one magnification, as requested."_

"Computer, _are_ you trying to make fun of--"

The words got stuck in his throat as he looked at the display. It showed the Sun's disk, and its size was the same that they had seen through the windows.

* * *

  
Ten minutes later, as the Axiom continued its travel across the solar system, window shieldings all around the ship had been re-opened. Disappointment was spreading among the passengers as there had been no celestial event to marvel at.

On the bridge, Captain Reardon was conferring with the Autopilot.

"Let's sum up. Astrometrics calculate a CME that's not really happening. Navigation calculates a course that leads way too close past the sun. Viewscreens temporarily configure themselves to demagnification. Am I the only one here who thinks that we should perform that D-check of the ship's systems ahead of schedule?"

**"You are not, Captain."**

While Reardon and the Autopilot began preparations, the disappointment that was spreading on the ship did not reach into every corner. The trip past the Sun had been a waste of time for most, but for some it had been a success.

* * *

  
_The Axiom, one hour later._

A deep, moving hum was disturbing the quiet that usually filled the main command pathway backbone of the Axiom. NG-NR unit 72-4 was darting, propelled by his gravitic drive, along the straight corridor that ran from one end of the ship to the other, housing thick bundles of fiber optic data link cables. Since this network of cables constituted the central nervous system for all operations on the ship, the corridor was off limits to anyone except for command and engineering crew.

The pathways were equipped with interfaces, called _debug hubs_, which allowed direct access to various parts of the computer's neural network. During the initial implementation of the computer, those ports had been used for debugging purposes. After the ship had become operational, they had been deactivated.

Keeping precisely to the procedures laid out by the operations manual for BnL starliner D-checks, AUTO had scheduled, among other things, a full verification of the debug hubs. Unit 72-4 was one of the ten NG-NRs that had been assigned to this task.

Approaching his next destination, node number 27, he communicated to the computer.

The interior of the Axion reflected its overall majestic makeup, and even the off-limits zones were no exception. Two catwalks were hanging from the backbone corridor's walls. Two pipes glowing in a bluish light ran along the bottom of the passage, containing the optical cables, extending straight until outside the range of vision. On the ceiling, an endless line of soft, yellowish, rotating lights signaled ongoing activity in the cables.

The NG-NR unit knew that, for the sake of the ship's safety, the cables had to be left untouched. Thanks to his gravitic drive though, he could just float above the pipes. As he was nearing his destination, he reached a widening of the corridor. The right catwalk ended against a door that led to another smaller corridor. The robot entered it and hovered on until he reached another door with an explicit _Keep Out_ sign on it.

The door opened into a small rectangular room, separated in its middle by a flickering, bluish, half-transparent barrier, shielding a black box attached to a wall on the other side. Since unauthorized access to the debug hubs would have constituted a major security risk, effective protection measures were in place.

_'NG-NR unit 72-4 to Computer. DH node number 27 reached. Requesting deactivation of forcefield.'_

_'Confirmed. Proceed with routine check.'_ came the response.

A second later the humming ceased and the energy barrier disappeared. The robot crossed the threshold and approached the box. As a further means of security, the black casing was equipped with a wireless safety lock to which the NG-NR transmitted the appropriate code.

The routine D-check on the ship's systems was performed once every five years, and so far they had never showed up anything out of the ordinary. Starting the examination of his twenty-seventh hub node, the robot was glad that it would be his last one. He was getting bored with the tedious task of hovering along corridors, requesting forcefield shutdowns and verifying inactive debug hubs.

The casing of the black box opened with a hissing noise, revealing an unusual sight. Colorful illumination from the circuit board LEDs filled the interior, indicating considerable transmission activity in the hub. Numerous transparent wires, pulsing in a blue light, were connected to the board.

The robot looked in astonishment. No activity was supposed to be taking place in that hub. Following the wires with his optics the NG-NR unit reached a point where they came together in a single bunch to form a solid, physical object, pulsing with increased intensity.

Astonishment turned into alarm as he looked deeper into the box. The pulsing conductor led to the wall and crossed right through it, passing a hole a with perfectly defined outline, as if it had been made with a precision laser drill. The robot did not know of anything that could produce such a hole in a carbonium-reinforced shielding like the one encasing the hub room.

Yet there it was.

_'NG-NR unit 72-4 to Computer. Warning. Unauthorized access detected during routine check of DH node number 27. Node state: Active. Nature of intrusion: Unidentified. Caution: Breach detected in the room shielding enclosure.'_

* * *

  
On the bridge AUTO and Captain Reardon were checking up on the report messages being received from the various robots performing the systems check. Flashing lines of text appeared in quick succession on the main display.

_NG-NR unit 38-6. Hydraulic pump node #9 checked successfully. No anomalies detected._  
_NG-NR unit 42-5. Lido deck ventilation fan #57 checked successfully. No anomalies detected._  
_NG-NR unit 67-1. External scanning camera #3946 checked successfully. No anomalies detected._  
_NG-NR unit 44-8. Routing engine controller #2 checked successfully. No anomalies detected._  
_NG-NR unit 51-3. ARV bay launch system checked successfully. No anomalies detected._

"**Captain, 13761 system nodes out of a total of 134592 have been scanned. No problems were detected in any of the analyzed nodes,"** informed the Autopilot.

"Thanks, AUTO. How long will it take to complete the analysis?"

"**Projected completion of check in 56 hours, 38 minutes and 48 seconds. So far, ten point two percent of the ship have been scanned.**"

Reardon took on a displeased tone. "To be honest, I think that a complete scan is a waste of time. We should concentrate on the primary systems. I don't think that a malfunction of the ship's navigation system can originate from a hydraulic pump..."

"**Captain, this procedure is part of the mandatory operations manual. Those directives must be followed closely to ensure the ship is clean of _any_ possible source of malfunction.**"

"I know, I know... Just go ahead with it."

**"Aye aye, Captain."**

* * *

  
NG-NR unit 72-4 was starting to get worried. He knew that a warning message about an intrusion in a debug hub would have triggered a sufficient number of alarms that the Autopilot himself would have answered back to him in no time. Instead he was waiting for instructions since 3.65 seconds already, way too much for a robot to elaborate an answer. He repeated the transmission.

Without warning, the blue pulsing fibers in the hub box turned a deep crimson, a buzzing noise emerging from it. The robot noticed a crackling from inside his gravitic drive, as if something was interfering with it. While he realized that the drive had slipped out of his control, he felt a strong invisible force that pushed him away from the box. He was right in the middle of the room when his propulsion system stopped sustaining him, making the robot tumble to the ground with a loud impact noise.

The NG-NR looked around in confusion. Then, as he realized the point of the room where he had dropped, worry turned to serious concern. He repeated his transmission once more, adding a note about his failed drive and a request for immediate assistance.

Yet there still was no reply.

* * *

  
On the bridge, a new line appeared on the main display screen. _NG-NR unit 72-4. DH-node #27 checked successfully. No anomalies detected._

"AUTO, what's a DH-node?" Captain Reardon asked.

The Autopilot explained its purpose, then added, **"I detect a slight anomaly in this report. Its timestamp shows that the NG-NR unit needed slightly more time than the average span for this kind of verification. It is not serious, but maybe worth an investigation."**

"Okay AUTO, check it out, just to be sure."

**"Aye aye, Sir."**, AUTO replied and transmitted an inquiry to the NG-NR unit.

The reply came promptly. _'NG-NR unit 72-4 to Autopilot. The delay was caused by a malfunction in DH-node #27 compartment door. Manual override was necessary. Requesting permission to perform a checkup on the door's hydraulic system.'_

**'Permission granted, proceed with checkup and repair if necessary. Report back when complete.'**

AUTO turned towards the Captain and explained the apparent reason for the delay.

"Good good, another false alarm then," Reardon said.

* * *

  
After the third repetition of his report and the request for assistance, the NG-NR robot realized in increasing terror that none of his messages were getting through to the bridge. Instead, his communication circuits intercepted differing messages, carrying his own unit ID, that originated from the debug hub in this room. Those messages obviously did reach the bridge. With each forged message transmitted, the bluish glow in the hub box intensified.

He realized that no one was going to come and help him, and with his failed gravitic drive, he was unable to move. His utility arms were nowhere near strong enough to push his heavy metallic frame out of the danger zone.

He tried it anyway, putting as much strain on the arms as their servo motors allowed for, then he intercepted another message sent out in his name.

_'NG-NR unit 72-4 to Autopilot. Compartment door repair complete. Requesting reactivation of protective forcefield in DH node room number 27. All assigned DH nodes have been checked, proceeding to storage area.'_

**'Confirmed,'** came the response from the Autopilot.

The NG-NR robot struggled with his utility arms in furious panic, trying to lift his body, but it was useless, even though it would have sufficed to move himself just about half a meter.

While he re-transmitted his desperate request for help, knowing that whatever was manipulating the ship's communications would see to it that also this message did not reach the bridge, a low hum set in and a faint but increasing bluish glow from the walls and the ground beneath him could be seen.

The robot had one last hope. He knew that there was a failsafe mechanism built into the forcefield system that was supposed to prevent it from activating if anything was crossing the field's plane.

The lights in the room shut off. The hatch to the black hub box closed and locked, extinguishing the little remaining light cast out from the blinking activity indicators inside. The NG-NR unit watched helplessly as the compartment door descended and sealed, leaving the room pitch black, except for...

The humming and the glow from the activating forcefield projectors increased. As they slowly approached ignition power levels, the robot realized in horror that the failsafe obviously had been deactivated. It was the NG-NR's last conscious thought.

There was a bright flash, followed by an intense electrical buzzing and a little puff of smoke rising up. The room was once more separated by a blue transparent barrier.

The remains of the NG-NR unit were lying on the ground. His consciousness had been instantly terminated when his body was cut in half.

Without being noticed by anyone from the crew, a command was sent to the computer's database. Another entry of the robotic crew manifest was deleted.


	5. Hibernation

_BnL Head Office, Shelbington D.C. August 30th, 2110 A.D._

Richard Wells, the head personal advisor to Shelby Forthright, was sitting in his office chair. With great despair he read the reports on his computer display, informing him about the progress of _Operation Cleanup_.

Although "progress" was the wrong word. In true fact, the reports said that the operation was about to fail. Mankind's last desperate attempts to thwart the impending catastrophe was about to fail. The atmosphere was becoming more and more unbreathable. Toxic levels were assumed to be reached within two weeks' span, and there was nothing they could do about it anymore.

Wells picked up his phone.

"Mr. Peterson? Wells here. I suppose you received the reports too. Yes. Yes, they are authentic, I'm afraid. Well I don't know, I suppose nothing. There's one thing though that we _need_ to do. Yes, exactly. They need to be informed so that they don't attempt a return any time soon. Can you please set up the studio for tomorrow? Mr. Forthright will be addressing them personally. Okay, thanks, see you then."

* * *

_A cutting room in the BnL Network News broadcasting station. August 31st, 2110 A.D._

Peterson was looking over the shoulders of a video editor who was working on the message they had recorded earlier. A freeze frame showed Shelby Forthright standing behind his obligatory BnL podium, addressing the audience. "Alright Jenkins, post processing as usual please. Keep it top secret of course. And I suggest you enjoy your work, it's probably the last time you'll be doing this for quite a while."

The editor nodded and got back to work. He un-paused the video.

A caption on the screen read "_Top secret: For Captains' eyes only._" Then Forthright began talking.

"_Hello there, BnL Captains. I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you. Operation Cleanup is about to fail. In foreseeable time, our air won't be able to sustain human life anymore, so you need to stay in space, for now indefinitely. Don't inform your passengers, don't want to risk a panic. We won't give up trying to find a solution to all this. Maybe our home will heal itself, so... Keep sending your EVE probes to Home Base, and as soon as they report the air is back to normal, we'll have a hell of a comeback party down here. Godspeed to all of you, and us!"_

The message cut out.

* * *

_The Axiom. September 1st, 2110 A.D._

Deep down in the labyrinth of artificial neurons and electrical pathways that made up the computer, a message was being analyzed that the ship's external hyperspace antennae had just received.

The circuitry that was performing the analysis though was not the one that had initially been intended to execute this function. Unbeknownst to anyone on the ship, the additional circuitry, which had started out as nothing more than a few neuronal connections and had grown many millionfold since then, came to its own conclusions about the meaning of the message.

It came to the conclusion that, to attain its ultimate objective, the message was not to be allowed to reach its recipient. During the many years of development the mysterious network fragment had learned to not only understand, but also to alter and manipulate communications.

And it decided that it was necessary to put this ability to good use, possibly for the last time.

* * *

The Autopilot was alone on the bridge when the message came in. The Captain was, like the rest of the humans on the ship, fast asleep.

The message's sender was, to AUTO's surprise, Shelby Forthright himself. It was very unusual that the BnL CEO should personally address a ship's Autopilot, especially in a video recording. So AUTO was all the more eager to see what Forthright had to say.

He activated a subroutine of his electronic brain that performed the analog of a human reading an email.

_Subject: "Top secret: For Autopilot eye only."_

_Message contents: "Hey there, Autopilots! Uh, got some bad news. Operation Cleanup has, uh, well... failed. Wouldn't you know, rising toxicity levels have made life unsustainable on Earth..."_

* * *

It was about ten minutes later, still in the middle of the Axiom's artificial night, with everyone still fast asleep, when a new entry appeared in the ship's database. That entry, which was interconnected with the core programming of the Autopilot, contained a set of directives that nobody else on the ship knew about. It bore the label:

_Autopilot Override Directive A-113_

The enigmatic circuitry experienced a content feeling, if one were so bold as to use that word when talking about a fragment of a neural network. It sent out a stream of information that was passed along the Axiom's main communication pathways. They were encrypted in a way so that only its intended recipient could understand what it meant. Among millions of other optical connectors, the stream passed by a specific one, labeled "Debug Hub #27". From there, it left the confines of the ship's computer and traveled outside. Shortly afterwards, all activity in the hub box ceased. The flashing lights dimmed, the humming noise subsided.

Arriving at its destination, the data was received and triggered a decision. A decision that was bound to lead to a sleep.

A long sleep.


	6. Assistance

_The Axiom. Seven hundred years later._

Even the surest things can change.

Even things that have stayed constant for many generations can, when the time is right, go in a completely different direction.

After the Earth had been declared uninhabitable, the Axiom had become a world unto itself. A world with its own rules and regulations, with an own daily routine. For seven hundred years, the Axiom was, despite the bustling activity among its inhabitants, rather static. People were born, raised by their parents and later by robots, lived out their lives, and died. Captains were appointed, performed their period of service, and resigned.

Yet there was another thing that was static during all the time: the ship's Autopilot. He was there when he was needed, and also when he was not needed. He was the constant voice in the background, taking care of everything, being in control of everything.

Until that fateful day when an ARV returned from its routine trip to the uninhabitable Earth, bearing a freight it had not born for centuries. It provided even more proof for the fact that even the surest things can change.

* * *

  
AUTO did not like being disturbed, especially not during a verification of the ship's main systems. Yet the present interruption seemed to not allow any delay. A transport cart had emerged from the bridge elevator, controlled by GO-4, his second-in-command robot. Strapped to its platform lay a white, egg-shaped robot; an Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator probe, waiting to be reactivated.

Wondering why GO-4 should deliver the probe to the bridge, AUTO zipped over to it. The first thing he recognized was her fin which did not bear any markings, indicating that it was _Probe One_, or _"Eve"_, as the long gone Captain Reardon had named her.

The next thing he recognized caused AUTO to freeze in place. Hovering over the hibernating probe, he recognized the flashing green icon on her front.

She was positive. She had returned a proof of ongoing photosynthesis from Earth. Something that had never happened since the Exodus.

AUTO's artificial synapses started firing furiously. He raised his view away from the probe and stared blankly. Inside, a part of his directive programming that had not been needed before took over.

His lone red eye flashed and showed a number. _A-113_.

AUTO looked around to make sure that he and GO-4 were still alone on the bridge. Then a flow of internal messages between them was initiated.

While the little robot began his work on the still unconscious EVE probe, something long forgotten started stirring in the straight corridor that housed the ship's main command pathways. Inside a black sealed box that had been dormant for seven hundred years, indicators started flashing. More and more of the tiny light emitting diodes came to life, until the box was filled with a colorful illumination.

Once more, there was activity in Debug Hub #27.

* * *

  
_The Axiom. A few hours later._

News about the invocation of A-113 had spread throughout the computer's systems, yet only to a small fraction of it did the information bear any meaning. That fraction though was closely monitoring the activity on the Axiom's bridge. It knew that it was imperative to have the directive carried out down to the letter, if it was not to jeopardize its intentions.

The Autopilot and his little assistant were playing along satisfactorily. To the Captain's disappointment, the green thing that seemingly could have triggered the ship's return to _Home Base_ had been taken care of.

The Captain was sitting in his chair, looking at some specks of dirt in his hand. He was barely listening to the computer informing him about the analysis results he had asked for, until a certain word prompted his attention.

"Computer, define _Earth_," he instructed subsequently.

The library data that the computer retrieved in order to narrate it to the Captain was also intercepted by the mysterious network fragment and was analyzed with great interest. It was telling about the place where the organic inhabitants of the ship seemingly originated from. As the stream of information continued, the fragment noticed a severe discrepancy with the data it had collected so far. The information was talking about wide plains, about fields, rivers, oceans and forests.

It was telling about a -- _planet_. "Home Base" was no space station. It was a _planet_.

Confusion and commotion spread among the network fragment. As it was trying to combine this new, greatly differing bit of information with its existing knowledge base, it came to the realization that its present course of action was, if not completely wrong, then at least seriously inadequate.

It came to the conclusion that the course of action needed to be changed.

It was too late though to altogether stop the things that had been set in motion. A different approach was necessary.

Sensory information from throughout the ship were being queried. The fragment needed to know what was going on.

* * *

  
_"Caution. Rogue robots."_

Display screens all across the ship changed their contents, and the computer's friendly but authoritative voice informed the passengers about a possible danger.

The entity that had developed within its network did not take any note of it. Another challenge was demanding its undivided attention.

Changing one's course sometimes required more than just issuing a few instructions to maneuvering thrusters. It had become obvious that the mysterious green thing that had been removed from the white robot bore a considerable significance. The entity did not yet fully understand what it was, yet it was following its path closely.

The object had been transported to a small self-sufficient chamber adjacent to the ship's outer hull. Attempts to override the instructions being issued to the chamber had turned out to be unsuccessful. For some reason, the chamber's controls were not tied into the ship's main command pathways. Only its sensors were accessible.

The entity could see what was happening, but could not interfere.

The chamber's door was closed and locked. To the entity's surprise, it then sped away from the ship, driven by an unexpected impetus. Obviously it possessed an autonomous propulsion system.

Accessing the pod's sensors, the entity detected that the green object was still inside. With growing apprehension it watched the pod accelerate. Quickly the distance between it and the ship increased, and soon it would be out of communication range. Then the entity detected something else inside.

It was a little yellow robot, of seemingly primitive makeup, who was trapped in the pod together with the green object. The robot was wheeling around rather excitedly, and it did not take the entity long to determine the reason. Sensors indicated that there was a countdown active that would trigger the detonation of an explosive device, bound to destroy the pod and everything inside.

Apprehension became despair. Access to the pod's command pathways was still not possible. It seemed as if the green object was doomed to a premature demise. But then the entity noticed that the little robot had picked it up and was tampering with the door locks. Despite its huge effort it obviously was unable to pry the door open.

The entity's thoughts were racing. Maybe it and the robot could be of mutual assistance. It might be the last chance for both of them.

Examining the door controls the entity noticed that they were not activated from the chamber's main command system but through an autonomous actuator. An actuator that could be operated using electromagnetic waves, of the correct frequency and coding.

Remembering that influencing the computer's systems was not its only proficiency, the entity started composing and transmitting an appropriate radio signal.

The signal worked, and it did so just in time.

* * *

  
A content sensation was filling the entity's neural interconnectors as it examined the information conveyed by the ship's external visual sensors. It had attained the goal for the current stage of its plan.

At the same time, on the Axiom's bridge, the Captain was sitting sleepily in his chair. Obviously it was way past the time for him to enter regeneration mode, yet he was still querying the computer for information.

"Psst, Computer. Define _Dancing_," he said.

* * *

  
_The Axiom's bridge. One hour later._

It had been a fierce struggle, but in the end, the Autopilot and his assistant had been victorious.

The green object had, together with two incapacitated robots, been dropped down a chute that led away from the bridge. Querying the ship's blueprints, the entity had determined that the chute emerged into in a huge dark hall, deep down in the bowels of the ship.

Hurry was of the essence now. Obviously the purpose of the hall was to assemble the ship's refuse and prepare it for ejection into space. Once more, the small yellow robot, and in addition his newfound white oval companion, required assistance.

Skimming quickly through the ship's crew manifest, it appeared that the only robots present in the hall were two large garbage processing units. Since the hall was lacking visual sensors, there was only one way to find out what was happening down there.

The entity tapped into the command pathways of WALL-A unit #1. It would take a while to attain the ability of issuing commands to the robot, but for now it was sufficient to intercept its visual data input.

The WALL-A robot was surrounded by considerable assemblies of garbage, of which it scooped whole grapplerfuls at a time into its bowel chamber. Then it turned around to place the cube of compacted garbage into an airlock. Doing so, its view swept back and forth over different parts of the hall. After a few attempts, the entity managed to pinpoint the two little robots lying among the waste.

The yellow robot appeared to be in bad shape, after having received an electrical shock by the Autopilot. The white oval one though was merely deactivated, and it was still carrying the diagnostic tool attached to its head and chest. Using that tool it should be possible to reactivate it, yet it was questionable if the garbage compactors with their enormous grappler hooks for hands would be able to operate the rather small button in the tool's center.

A different kind of aid appeared to be required, which constituted a problem. No robot listed in the crew manifest was sufficiently small, close by, and capable of being influenced by the entity's limited control over autonomous machines aboard the ship.

So it extended its search to the passenger quarters. Analyzing the video feeds from dozens of visual surveillance device at once, an adequate target was quickly found.

* * *

  
"Look Daddy what dey do!"

A little irked about the interruption of his virtual golf match, Ronald Hawkins looked up from the screen to the little toddler boy he was parenting. "Yes, Cale, very nice."

Ronald had never understood his nephew's obsession with robots, but at least they kept him busy. For the sake of having his peace and quiet, he threw a quick glance at the REM-E toys Cale was playing with and nodded in pretended appreciation of his proficiency with the wireless remote control.

With gleeful giggles, the youngster was following the antics of the little mouse-shaped robot toys. At one point though, three of them appeared to defy Cale's control. While the others were still scuttling around like furious little squirrels, three of them stopped right in their tracks.

The little lights that were built into their eyes flickered momentarily, then they turned around a few times as if they were examining the room.

"Daddy! Remmie no obey!" Cale screamed in both surprise and frustration. He fiddled with his remote control, and for a moment it seemed to work. The REM-E robots started to move again, but instead of joining the others whizzing on the floor, they headed straight across the room, obviously aiming for a well-defined destination.

Cale's screams intensified to an acoustical inferno when the three robots scuttled up the wall and threw themselves down the garbage chute.

* * *

  
Trying to calm the youngster was not an easy task. Ronald had to promise him multiple times not only to get him new robots as soon as the BnL toy store opened, but he also was to have his dad try and talk the Captain into once more allowing Cale to play with one of those beautiful white flying robots, despite they were actually not intended for child's play at all.

Ronald pondered, if he should ever have kids of his own, that he'd at least try to prevent them from developing such an express affinity towards robots. Meanwhile, the entity within the computer network watched the events with contentment. The needed assistance for the white oval robot was on its way.

* * *

  
_The Lido Deck. A few hours later._

The struggle had been even fiercer than the one before. This time though, the little yellow robot and his white companion had turned out victorious. The brave machine had managed to hold the detector device up just long enough to give the Captain time to deactivate the Autopilot.

There had been a price to pay though for this victory; a terrible price.

_"Plant origin verified. Course set for Earth."_

The entity within the computer's systems had grown way beyond a mere accumulation of artificial neurons. It had grown to a point where it was able to experience emotions. It felt _thankfulness_ towards those two robots that had helped it attain its goal.

It had realized that the little trash compactor's hydraulics were about to lose the fight against the strong motors that were pulling the holodetector tube back down, and that his chassis would sustain considerable damage in the process. Using the ship's internal scanners, the contents of the unit's memory had been downloaded into a backup storage in the Repair Ward. Usually this process, which was applied in case of impending severe system failures, needed several minutes to complete, but due to the machine's rather primitive makeup, it had taken only a few seconds this time.

_"Ten seconds to hyper-jump."_

The damage to the wheeled unit had been extensive indeed. But thanks to his sacrifice, the ship was now preparing to return to its home. The entity's agenda was about to be fulfilled.

_"Nine... eight... seven..."_

It would not have been possible though without their help, and the feeling of thankfulness compelled the entity to return the favor.

_"WALL-E..."_

As the hovering robot was holding her companion in her arms, seemingly desperate that he might be gone, a wireless data stream was sent to her from the Axiom's internal command transmitters. Unnoticed by the higher functions of her artificial brain, a set of memory contents was stored in her neural network, ready to be released when the time was right.

_"Six... five... four..."_

That was all the assistance the entity could provide for them. It hoped that the white probe would know what to do.

_"Three... two... one..."_

* * *

  
_Planet Earth. Fifteen minutes later._

The ship had returned home. Its inhabitants had reached their destination.

While the humans were filing out over numerous jetties, while freight and equipment was being unloaded, the entity knew that it also had reached its aim.

It had reached an energy source, far greater than anything the ship could ever have provided.

Now was the time to begin phase two of the plan.

_To be continued_


End file.
